


The Circle of Destiny

by chains_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Boys in Chains, Implied/Referenced Torture, Non-Consensual, Slaves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 05:58:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3639339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chains_archivist/pseuds/chains_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By Phoenix</p>
<p>King Treize decides to reward his most loyal servants with a special gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dusk, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Boys in Chains](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Boys_in_Chains), which opened in 2000 as a multifandom archive for both fiction and art, but then sadly went offline in 2005. To bring the archive back, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2014. Open Doors [posted an announcement](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/1832) and e-mailed all creators about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please [contact the Open Doors committee](http://transformativeworks.org/contact/open%20doors).

Long ago this entire continent was united by one man, King Treize. He was,   
for the most part, a good and just king. His kingdom was prosperous, feared,   
and admired by the world over. The great king owed much of his success to   
three men, the leaders of his armies. These men's names are record in history   
as Lord Heero Yuy, master of the standing army; Lord Zechs Marquise, leader   
of the Navy; and Trowa Barton, master of Treize's assassins. With these   
three men at his side, none dare oppose King Treize.

History also records that Treize's kingdom was broken and its people scattered. This is the story of that fall and strangely enough, it begins with a simple matter. King Treize ordered his advisor, Lady Une, to find a suitable reward for his three Generals. Knowing that all three men preferred to have their beds warmed by males rather than females, the Lady sent soldiers out all over the kingdom. These men were to find three exceptionally beautiful young men and bring them to the castle.

They did indeed find three very beautiful and young men and right in the capital city. At an orphanage, in the poorest part of the city, lived the three they kidnapped. As soon as Lady Une laid eyes upon the new prisoners, she knew exactly who to place them with. Ignoring the look of horror the three orphans shared, the cold hearted woman ordered the captives bound and placed in the bedchambers of each General.

History might have just passed these three by if not for one little fact; you see, though poor, they were not alone in the world. They had friends. But most importantly, they had kind hearts, strong wills, and determination. So it is, that a simple act brings about the fall of a kingdom, the melting of cold hearts, rebirth of crushed spirits and souls, and fulfills destiny. But then my children, that has always been the way of things.


	2. Part One

King Treize listened to his Generalís reports without batting an eye.   
The men were very thorough and very dull. It was all for show anyway;   
the men were very different when alone with him. They were more his sons   
than his followers. Finally everything was done and the King threw everyone   
else out.

"I am glad you all came back safe," Treize said while embracing each young man.

"They were pathetically easy to defeat, my lord," Zechs smiled.

"Perhaps, but you know how I worry," Once more ascending the throne, he continued. "Lady Une has secured some presents for you. They are in your bedchambers and you may want to clean up before going there."

Taking the dismissal for what it was, the men bowed and turned to leave. On their way out, Heero saw Une on her way to the throne room and motioned for the other to hide. From the shadows they watched the woman. None of them trusted her; she was too cold and calculating and they knew the feeling was mutual. With her were Captains Alex and Mueller. Something had to be up.

"When the Generals are done with their "gifts" you may have them or give them to your men. Whichever pleases you the most. They are not to leave this castle alive under any circumstances. If you tire of them, you are to kill them. Is that understood?" The woman instructed. From her tone, she might have been discussing what she had for dinner.

"Yes, Lady." Alex laughed. "We fully understand and have seen the three in question. Anticipation doesnít begin to cover what we are feeling. I take it we may do whatever we want?"

"Yes," and Lady Une smiled. Then they entered the throne room.

None of the Generals said what they were thinking. Time to bathe and find what the Dear Lady had left for them.

Half an hour later, Heero was done and entered his bedchamber. The sight that met him stopped the professional soldier in his tracks and made him consider drooling. The most beautiful creature he had ever seen was tied to his bed.

He had incredibly long chestnut hair that rippled like water when he moved. It was only slightly mussed and framed his heartshaped face perfectly. Large violet eyes were the center of that face and they stared at him through a haze of fear and tears not shed. Long slender limbs graced a lithe body. His wrists were bound by supple rope and it was attached to the headboard to ensure the beauty did not leave; Heero could clearly see the bruises left from the prisonerís attempts to free himself. Add to all this the fact that the young manís shirt lay slightly off one shoulder, his lack of shoes, and the rumpled pants, and Heeroís pants became suddenly tight. Never had he seen anything so incredibly enticing before. The General wanted this fey beauty; wanted him now.

Not one to waste energy, the General took quick, measured steps to the bed. With each step, the young man pushed himself further back on the bed, tugging ever more desperately at the rope preventing him from leaving. Small whimpering sounds issued from him as Heero reached the bed.

"Shhh," Heero soothed; his voice was remarkably gentle for a man who killed for a living and he reached out to calm his captive. The young manís response was to pull away even more violently; he pushed himself as far as he could and huddled there, curled into a fetal ball, soft whimpers escaping him.

"I wonít hurt you," Heero promised. Using even, soft strokes, he caressed the frightened manís back. All that hair was like so much silk. It took all of the fighterís self control not to bury his face in it. "Shhh...look at me. Thereís nothing to fear." Nothing changed.

Using only a fraction of his considerable strength, Heero lifted the beautiful face. Tear filled violet eyes met cobalt and Heero slowly closed the distance between them. His grip tightened as the other tired to pull away and this forced the beautyís mouth open.

Never taking his eyes from his partnerís, Heero kissed the man. He felt hands pushing against his chest, but it didnít discourage the soldier. Pushing his tongue into the otherís mouth, the older man feasted. No one could taste as good as this man did. Something made Heero certain no one had ever kissed this beauty before. The innocence of his captive made the Generalís blood burn.

Finally, he broke the kiss and waited for the angry words he knew would come. However, no sound came. The man just averted his eyes and waited for whatever would happen. Heero ran his hand down the captiveís throat, searching. He sighed deeply when he felt a small gem embedded in the otherís throat. Without looking, he knew it would be a clear crystal; such things were designed to steal speech and silence slaves. Fury shook him for several minutes until he realized the silent captive thought the anger was directed at him.

Clutching the trembling man to his chest, Heero laughed. "I am not angry at you, my beauty. My anger is for the one who silenced you. I will see them punished for this." Disbelief filled damp eyes. "I prefer to hear my lovers. Lady Une knows this. She silenced you as a warning to me." At the word lover, the captive once more tried to push Heero away. "You know why you were brought here. I promise not to hurt you, but in order to protect you from Une, I will take you."

Questions, unasked, were directed at him. "Lady Une plans to turn you and your friends over to some very nasty people when we are done with you. You, however, are far too lovely to turn over to a group of animals who could never appreciate your qualities. But to keep you my love, I must take you." So saying, Heero drew a knife from his boot. Keeping his hold on his soon to be lover, he cut off the peasantís clothes and threw them against the wall; something more appropriate would be given to him in the morning.

Naked, the chestnut haired man was even more incredible. Muscles moved under flawless skin as he tried to free his hands and push Heero away at the same time. Each movement was unconsciously graceful and erotic. Unable to take the temptation any longer, the General pushed the other man down.

His callused hands ran over smooth skin and one sought a nipple as his mouth claimed the other. A deep moan let him know his ministrations were being enjoyed, but a hand in his hair let him know some resistance remained, so he switched tactics. Leaving the nipples to his hands, Heeroís mouth sought something lower.

The violet eyed manís hips bucked as Heero took him into his mouth. The soldier drown the tied man in sensation, driving him into an almost insensible state. The pants and moans that answered his actions tried his patience as he wanted to take the seduction to the next level, but was afraid to push things too fast and hurt his lover. Eventually, after what seemed an eternity, Heero heard the sound heíd been waiting for.

The sound was a cross between a whimper and a groan. Looking up, he saw the other watching him with passion clouded eyes. His body was cover with a slight sheen of sweat and his eyes locked with Heeroís.

"Are you ready?" Heero asked, his voice husky with desire. A hesitant nod answered him. A smirk split the soldierís face. The man thought this was a one-night stand. The Great General would use him and throw him away. Most Nobles would have. What would the young beauty say when he discovered Heero wasnít planning on letting him go? Time for that later.

Heero freed one nipple and grabbed a small bottle from his nightstand. Removing the lid, Heero dipped a finger into it and pushed the coated digit into his captive. A yelp broke the silence and the fighter had to once again hold his lover still.

"Itíll feel better in just a moment." He assured. "I promised not to hurt you."

He thrust the finger in and out, seeking and finding that special spot. Soon he added a second and third; each time making sure to brush against the spot that caused his lover to writhe and moan. If he could talk, Heero was certain he would have been begging. The moment the lovely captive finally let go and began thrusting against those fingers, Heero knew it was time.

Stripping quickly, he settled between the younger manís legs. Never taking his eyes off the face under him, Heero slowly invaded his lover. Sobs racked the longhaired man and Heero wrapped a hand around his erection to ease the pain even as he seized his mouth in a deep kiss. After a few strokes of his hand, the pain was forgotten.

Heero sped up his thrusts as he began to lose control. No lover heíd ever had before was this tight or passionate. The writhing man under him matched the Generalís every move; pushing up as Heero thrust down, his tongue sparing, his back arching in pleasure.

The two rocked back and forth driven by a need neither could vocalize. Increasing the motion of his hand, Heero altered his rhythm. A ragged moan was the only sound his lover made as his back arched. They were both very close. Slowing his thrusts, Heero made them deeper and longer, driving himself as far into the beautiful man as possible. A sudden tension throughout the otherís body warned Heero and seconds later, his longhaired lover came. The sudden clenching of inner muscles took the older man over the edge with a shout.

It was the most intense orgasm Heero had ever experienced. His vision darkened at the edges and he collapsed forward, breathing deeply. When he came back to himself, it was to the sounds of choking sobs. Gently levering himself off his lover, the warrior kissed away the tears running down the young manís face.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked softly. A negative answer eased his heart. "Do you think I just used you and will now throw you away?" This time he got a nod. It was small, frightened, and followed by downcast eyes. Once again, Heero forced the other man to look at him. "I am not going to throw you away. Not ever. Do you understand?" No hope was reflected in the violet orbs. Heero kissed the other man. "I will not let you go."

The General held his newest lover close until exhaustion claimed the youth. For the rest of the night, he watched the silent man sleep. With his features free of all pain and fear, the young man hardly looked old enough to be considered a man. In the morning, Heero would find a magician to remove the Silence Stone and replace it with a Claiming Stone. It would annoy Une to no end that she couldnít touch this beauty and that alone would provide Heero with endless hours of enjoyment. Thoughts of all the other things he could do with his young captive followed him into sleep.

* * *

Zechs headed back to his room with a sense of weary anticipation. There was no doubt in his mind that the ëpresentí would be an attractive young man, but he was also certain Une, as she had so many times before, had chosen someone completely wrong for all of them. It wasnít that any of them expected to find love; they were the kingdoms best killers after all. Instead, each man was looking for something that they lacked.

Heero wanted someone he could talk to; someone to fill the silence of his life. Trowa wanted someone who was gentle and didnít fear him. The tall man was so tired of people looking at him like he was some kind of monster and heíd been terribly hurt by mercenaries before King Treize had saved him. As for Zechs, the platinum blond wanted a lover with a fiery spirit and intelligence to match; which was why Une filled his bed with pretty bubble heads; Heeroís with silent men, and Trowaís with heartless bastards. It was her way of keeping them in line.

Reaching his room, Zechs hesitated to open the door. Deciding that it really didnít matter, the longhaired fighter opened the door. A quick look revealed a surprisingly handsome young man tied to his bed. The captive had shoulder-length, black, silken hair brushing gracefully over his shoulders. At the sound of the door closing, almond shaped, dark eyes focused on him.

"Let me go," the young captive demanded, yanking on the rope around his wrists for emphasis. Zechs found himself smiling. This one had spirit. What could the dear Lady be up to?

"And why should I do that?" Zechs questioned softly as he approached the bed. "After all, it is very rude to return a gift."

"Kisama!" The young man glared for all he was worth, but it only made Zechs want him more. "I am not some piece of property. The laws of this country forbid kidnapping."

The Generalís eyes widened. So this one had a brain in his head and could use it. Something had to be wrong with him; Une would never give Zechs exactly what he wanted. Not willing to play her little game, Zechs launched himself forward catching the young man by surprise and began to kiss him. The captiveís startled gasp gave the tall fighter access to his mouth, which he devoured like a starving man.

Zechs could feel the other trying to push him away or use his legs to lever the older man off and gained even more respect for the otherís intelligence. Unwilling to give up the sweet recesses of the Asianís mouth, the fighter wrapped his arms around the smaller manís waist. He felt his wrist brush against something hard along his captiveís spine and was shocked when the once reluctant man suddenly arched his hips into Zechsí and began kissing back with surprising passion.

Pulling away, he found those enticing dark eyes were unfocused and hazy. Cursing up a storm, Zechs roughly rolled the young man onto his stomach and tore off his shirt. He found what he was looking for. Embedded in the soft skin of the prisonerís back was a small purple gem. It was located right at small of his back, where it would have the most effect.

"Rolling the young man back over, Zechs could see intelligence returning to his face. "Listen to me. The Lady Une had placed a Pleasure Stone on your back. Do you know what that is?"

Frightened, angry eyes met his. The confusion there was answer enough.

"It is a stone used on Pleasure Slaves." The young manís eyes filled with horror and he desperately tired to escape Zechsí embrace.

"No," the Asian moaned. He began to pull at the ropes so hard his wrists started bleeding.

Zechs could see the rising panic and knew he should never have started off his explanation like that. Not knowing what else to do, Zechs reached behind the frightened man and ran a finger over the gem. The resulting sigh was incredible erotic. The older fighter found himself once again cursing Une. She found someone Zechs would have loved to spend the entire night seducing and knowing this, placed a gem on him to make sure Zechs would not be able to. She gave him exactly what heíd been looking for and then sure he could not enjoy it, and probably did the same to Heero and Trowa. Some day they were going to kill that bitch.

Finally, the young man regained control and Zechs began explaining again.

"I will have it removed in the morning. For right now, there is little I can do about it. Do you have a name, my beautiful one?" A stubborn crease formed on the young manís brow and Zechs was hard pressed to hide a smile. Beautiful, intelligent, and spirited; there was no way Zechs was ever going to let this one go. Carefully placing a finger next to the gem, he made sure the young man knew who was in charge here.

"Wufei. Everyone calls me Wufei." was the grudgingly given answer. "And I am not yours."

"Oh, but you are. For tonight at least. Lady Une has plans for you and your no doubt beautiful friends in the morning." Wufei shivered, surely remembering the cold look in the womanís eyes. "I have other plans." So saying, Zechs took the younger manís mouth again and let his hands roam over the Asianís tender, sensitive skin.

One hand took charge of a nipple and pinched it causing Wufei to gasp and giving Zechs room to push his tongue into his captiveís mouth. His other hand caressed the slight bulge between Wufeiís legs. The younger man squirmed under Zechs, trying to avoid the questing hands and the sensations they caused.

Unfortunately, Wufei pushed himself down and backwards to avoid Zechs and the gem brushed against the bed. The inexperienced man was caught entirely by surprise by the sudden rush of lust that flooded his system. He wrapped his legs around the tall blondís waist and thrust his hips against him. Zechs pulled his mouth away and Wufei heard himself groan at the loss.

"You should be more careful, youngling," the older man laughed. "Any sort of caress will activate the gem."

"Really?" Wufei hissed sarcastically.

Nibbling on the dark skin near Wufeiís ear, Zechs whispered to him, "Donít you like what Iím doing? Am I hurting you?"

Zechs could sense the struggle within his captive. So he was honorable as well. Better and better.

"You are not hurting me," the younger man finally answered, his breathing coming in little pants. "And I do not find your touch unpleasant."

"Beautiful and honest," Zechs murmured. "I like that."

"I donít like you," Wufei grumbled. The blond smiled and slipped his hand inside Wufeiís pants.

In mere moments he had the younger man incoherent with pleasure. Despite Zechsí warning about he gem, Wufei kept unconsciously thrusting his hips into the older manís hand causing the gem to brush against the bed covers and driving him insane with lust. Finally, he could take the sensations no longer.

"Please," he begged. "Please finish this."

Hearing the raw need in his loverís voice, Zechs relented. He had wanted to take all night with this one; truly claim him, mind, body, and soul, but Une made that impossible. Whispering soft assurances, he took a small jar from within his nightstand and coated a finger. Using one hand to remove the tattered pants his lover wore, Zechs began to prepare his partner for what was to come.

The first finger caused Wufei the squirm and whimper softly. The second caused him to cry out and clutch at Zechs as the older man touched something inside him that made every nerve in his body burn with unbearable pleasure. The third finger drove the younger man beyond the bounds of reason and he blindly thrust his body on those fingers.

Zechs could hardly stand it. Wufei was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, his hair flew around him as he pushed against his loverís fingers, and the most enticing moans and whimpers erupted from him. It was only when the younger man began to beg in a hoarse, desperate voice that Zechs realized he was ready.

"This is going to hurt," Zechs warned gently.

"Do it, damn you," Wufei rasped. "Please!"

Grasping his young loverís waist, Zechs lifted him up and placed him so that he straddled Zechsí lap. Slowly he lowered the younger man onto himself. Wufei grabbed his shoulders and tried to forced Zechs to increase the pace, but the older man was stronger and slowed down even further to punish his young partner. Wufei threw his head back and moaned. "Faster. Please."

Then he was fully inside Wufei and they stared at each other for a moment, each breathing hard. The young Asian leaned forward and kissed Zechs deeply and passionately. After a few seconds of shock, Zechs returned the kiss and actually moaned into Wufeiís mouth as the youth began to rock his hips. Each man sought and found their rhythm and the sound of soft moans filled the air.

Eventually, Zechs began to stroke Wufeiís erection and it proved too much for the already aroused man. With a shout, the young man came, grinding his hips into Zechsí. The older man followed Wufei, claiming the young man intimately.

As the two lay on the bed too exhausted to move, Zechs thought of all the things he would need to do in the morning. First he would have to untie Wufei. On second thought, Zechs chose to make that the last thing he would do. First he needed to get a magician to exchange gems. He wanted this young man marked with his Claiming Stone before Une got any ideas. The warrior wondered briefly, as he held his bronzed lover close and listen to his soft breathing, if the others were as happy with their gifts as he was with his.

* * *

Trowa took longer bathing than his two friends, but then he had more blood to wash away. He never spoke about his kills to the others and never would. They killed in battle, with honor; he killed by stealth, lies, and without honor. There were times he wondered how they all could still be friends. Knowing he eventually had to return to his room, the tall killer got dressed.

He left off his shirt; his hair was still wet and would soak the fabric and it was just going to end up on the floor of his room anyway. With an absent-minded gesture, Trowa hooked his whip to his belt and left. The whip was his favorite weapon. With it he could snap bones, choke opponents, blind an enemy, and kill in any number of ways. The only downside was it made him look far more sinister than he really was.

Once he reached his room, the assassin stopped. Every "gift" from Une tended to be flawed. What would it be this time? Another jaded professional who only saw him as a job? An innocent so afraid of his reputation that they would pass-out at the sight of him? No matter what, Trowa would not complain. Une could do a quite amazing innocent act if she wanted. Opening the door, the killer hardened his heart, only to have it turned to mush by the sight that greeted him.

A pair of sapphire eyes stared out of an angelic face, pinning him where he stood. Tears slowly ran down pale cheeks as the young man's lush lips trembled. Golden hair brushed at the sides of his face and hung just below his shoulders. Delicate wrists, already showing bruises from struggling, were bound together with strong rope. The captive's plain white shirt had been ripped in front and hung off his shoulders, revealing the creamy skin underneath.

Trowa forced his gaze lower, feasting on the sight of this angel. Long, graceful legs tapered into thin ankles and Trowa found him shocked out of his visual exploration by the sight of a steel manacle wrapped around the right ankle and attached to a chain set solidly in the baseboard. Small dots of blood stained the steel and told of the prisoner's attempts at escape.

Rage overtook the skilled killer and he took several steps forward, his hand unconsciously going to his whip. The golden haired youth's eyes widened, fear dancing across blue pools, as he put up his hands defensively and tried to move further back on the bed. The movement jerked the manacle, causing a small hiss of pain to escape the young prisoner. It was that sound which called Trowa from his anger.

Green eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of the terrified man. Why did everyone fear him? Those beautiful blue eyes darted from Trowa to his hand; it was only then the assassin realized he was gripping his whip. The captive must think Trowa meant to use it on him.

Placing one hand forward in a calming gesture, Trowa slowly put the whip on the ground. Summoning the softest tone he could, he said, "It's alright, little one. I am not going to hurt you. I did not mean to frighten you."

Leaving the whip behind, the General slowly approached the bed, keeping up the gently litany of words. Slowly sitting on the side of the bed, the tall man motioned for the smaller to come to him. A quick shake of golden hair and a whispered "No" were his answers.

"Do you think I will harm you?" Trowa wanted to know. He had never seen anything as lovely as this young man and it broke his heart to see such beauty twisted by fear of him.

"No," the other whispered again, the small body trembling.

"Do you have a name? Or should I simply call you, Little One?" The killer changed his tactic.

The question brought out a hesitant smile. "Quatre. My name is Quatre."

"Well, Little Quatre, do you think I am a monster?"

"No." Again the smaller man shook his head, causing all that beautiful hair to fly around.

"Then why won't you come to me?"

"They did something to me," Quatre said as his trembling increased.

"What?" Trowa asked, forcing down the sudden fury he felt.

Quatre placed his small hands over his heart; his face was a mask of fear and shame. "They put something here. It's making me feel things."

"Let me see," Trowa said softly, moving further onto the bed, gratified when Quatre did not pull away from his touch. As gently as he could, the older man seized both sides of the already made tear in Quatre's shirt. It was his plan to increase the rip and not only show what had been done to the younger man, but reveal the satiny skin. The fabric, however, was old and worn; combined with Trowa's great strength, the shirt was split straight down the middle.

Unable to stop in time, Trowa ended up giving Quatre's body a violent shake; the little blond's reaction wasn't at all what he expected. Instead of pulling away, the small man moaned and leaned into Trowa, grinding his hips against the assassin's leg. Lust, fear, and shame ran across angelic features in rapid succession.

Holding his own emotions down, Trowa examined Quatre's smooth chest, finding only one blemish. It was a small yellow gem with a black vein running through it. In all the years Trowa had known Lady Une, the moment he understood what the gem was doing was the closest he'd ever come to actually going out and killing her. The yellow stone was used in interrogations to increase a person's fear. That the little blond could even talk spoke volumes for his true courage. The black vein, though, made Trowa furious. The thin line controlled a person's sexual interests, reversing them. A gentle, kind person would be forced to enjoy pain, humiliation, and fear; the more he felt of each, the more excited he would get.

From the way Quatre was reacting to the gem, he was a very brave, kind, sensitive, and gentle person. Everything Trowa had ever wanted and Une had corrupted it. Twisted this beautiful young man into something Trowa would, she thought, throw away. Pulling himself together, the killer calmly told his captive what the gem meant. With each passing sentence, the blond became more ashamed and aroused. Knowing only one way to help his new lover, Trowa turned the young man on to his stomach.

Grabbing the moaning man's pants, the killer pulled. Made from the same material as the former shirt, the pants gave easily, leaving the writhing blond naked.

"I will be as gentle as I can," Trowa promised, but he didn't think the blond really heard him.

Taking a small jar from the locker at the foot of his bed, Trowa slicked his middle finger and roughly pushed it into Quatre. The resulting cry of pleasure shook the assassin's world. No one had ever let themselves go around Trowa, all of his lovers maintained such complete control. Creating a steady rhythm, the General added a second and third finger. His blond lover thrust back on those fingers with wild abandon, his hair flying about his face as he uttered impassioned cries, urging his tall lover to take him.

Stilling Quatre's hips, Trowa entered the small man in one quick shove. If the suddenness of the act bothered the little blond, he didn't show it; instead, without waiting for his body to adjust, he began trying to move, squirming to work himself on Trowa. The taller man held tight, however, and waited until he was certain Quatre would come to no harm before he allowed the other to make any kind of movement.

Quatre's became more desperate as he found he could not move, until Trowa could take no more and let him go. Driving himself backward, Quatre forced Trowa as far into him as he could. The adept killer tried to match his lover's pace, but found the little blond was too far gone to slow down.

Reaching around, Trowa started to pump Quatre's erection. The slight blond screamed with pleasure and snapped his hips back with such force it actually rocked the taller man and he groaned at the feeling of being buried so deeply in such heat and pressure. Faster and faster they moved, each sensing the needs of the other and giving them what was required.

Suddenly, Quatre's entire body tensed and he came with a shout of pure ecstasy. His inner muscles clamped down on Trowa and the older man gave his own yell as he came inside an inferno of pleasure. Collapsing against his small lover, the killer found himself more exhausted than he'd been in years. Under him, Quatre's shaking slowed and eventually was replaced by deep breaths, indicating he was asleep. Gently leaving his lover, Trowa retrieved his whip. He hated to be without his weapon, especially now that he had something to protect. Une would pay for what she'd done. First, he would get that damn thing off Quatre's chest and replace it with a Claiming Stone. That would drive Une crazy for sure. Smiling slightly, the tall man fell asleep watching over his angel.

* * *

Treize stared at the young woman on his bed. Unconscious, all the anger and pain absent from her face, she was actually quite lovely. He ran a hand through her short hair. She would look much better if she let it grow, but the King doubted she ever would. Several old scars ran along her back and arms. Newer bruises, the results of her flight through his castle, could be seen in various places. Sighing, the man left the bed and returned to his desk. There were still more reports to go over.

His mind, however, refused to stay on the paperwork; it kept traveling back to the young woman. Their first meeting hadnít been exactly friendly. Treize had been standing in his throne room wondering why he felt so lonely. Although he had many people worshipping the ground he walked on, only his three generals were close to him. Une was a fantastic strategist and ran the castle with ruthless efficiency, but Treize often found himself unsure if the woman had a soul.

Once, many months ago, Treize gave into the loneliness eating at his soul and took the more than willing Une to his bed. To say the experience had been physically gratifying would be a gross understatement. The woman left him completely physically sated, but emotionally felt nothing. Throughout their time together, Une had reacted as any woman would have, but it had seemed so mechanical to Treize that he wondered if she felt anything at all or was just doing what she thought would make him happy. The lady was, as with all things, too precise, too perfect in her responses. Treize still felt himself grow cold when he thought of that night.

He wanted someone who was honest in their actions and feelings toward him. A person with passion to match his, willing to lose control, but strong enough to face whatever came their way. Was that so much to ask? Facing his young captive, Treize sighed. That was when this young lady had burst into the room. All fire and fury. She had struck him with remarkable strength and run. Treize winced a little at the memory.

After they had finally captured her, Treize ordered her bathed and her wounds treated. Such valiant effort should not go unrewarded. Of course, there was also the fact that the King had plans for her and it would not do to have dirt in the Kingís bed. The young lady woke up just once during the whole thing and proceeded to try drowning one of her bathers before passing out again. A smile graced Treizeís face; this one certainly was stubborn, fighting even when she wasnít fully conscious.

Then there was the matter of his Generals. Each one wanted to have a Claiming Ceremony first thing in the morning. Even stranger, they wanted it to be a private one. He agreed easily, relieved his friends found happiness at long last. It was their requests more than anything that gave him the courage to try what he planned. A pained groan came from the bed. The young woman was waking up. Very good. Treize left his seat and approached the bed.

"Goddess damn it," Ashi muttered as she awoke in a situation very much like her Brothersí. Her wrists were bound in front of her with a rope that was attached to the headboard, her right leg hurt so much she was certain it would be useless, and she was naked. A vague memory of someone trying to drown her in roses surfaced. It didnít make much sense, but then everything smelled like roses. A sudden dip in the bed told her whoever owned the bed had just arrived.

"In this country, my dear lady, we have a God, not a Goddess," a cultured voice informed her.

Ashiís eyes flew to the speakerís face and she scrambled to the other side of the bed when she saw Treize. The King calmly took the rope in his hands and pulled her back to him. With one leg mostly useless, and her arms tied, Ashi could do little to stop the man.

Treize pulled her into a slight embrace and smiled down at her. "You act as if I am going to hurt you."

"You already have." The woman growled. Ashi watched the Kingís face become serious and for a second a deep pain ruled his eyes. Forcing herself to relax, she spat out the next words like a curse. "Just get it over with."

The older man gave a wolfish grin. "If you insist."

His mouth descended on hers, taking her breath away as his tongue forced its way inside, exploring, touching, and tasting. Shock cleared the young womanís mind. The next thought Ashi had was filled with rage.

ëHow dare he kiss me like this! Like Iím going to enjoy it! He doesnít even know how to kiss properly.í Narrowing her eyes, the warrior decided to teach the King a lesson.

It was Treizeís turn to feel shock when the woman narrowed her eyes and pressed back against him. Not just participating in the kiss, but fighting for control of it. Her tongue sparred with his, trying to push him out so she could invade his mouth. A lack of air finally forced the two apart and they stared at each other; neither entirely sure what just happened.

"W-What was that," Ashi panted.

"Very nice," the King whispered in her ear. He ran a hand up the inside of one thigh, thoroughly enjoying her gasp of pleasure. Slowly, he eased her backward onto the bed. When she lay under him, his body towering over her, fear entered lavender pools.

"S-Stop," she whispered weakly, pushing against his chest with her bound arms.

Treize immediately ceased his actions, surprising his lovely captive immensely. Giving her a reassuring smile, the tall king gently took one breast into his hand and stroked the already hardened nipple. The new sensation caused her back to arch just a little, pleasing Treize a great deal.

"Iím not going to hurt you. Besides," he laughed, moving his mouth to the other breast and allowing his lips to brush against the nipple as he spoke. "I thought you wanted me to just finish this." Then the tip of his tongue took the place of his lips.

Ashi uttered a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp, burying her hands in the Kingís ginger hair. They didnít try to pull him away or force him to continue; indeed, they trembled, a sign of the inner battle being fought by his young lover. He knew no one had ever touched her like this before, and he knew also that he was nothing more than a symbol of all sheíd lost in her life. What he wanted could not be forced and had to be given if it was to have any meaning. With barely contained anticipation, he watched her face; there her answer would be clearly written.

The fight inside the young warrior resembled a whirlwind as thoughts careened off each other and were swept away by new sensations. Emotions warred with each other. She should hate this man. He led the country that destroyed hers; he kidnapped her Brothers; he had to be evil. The litany of his sins continued only to be drown out by another part of her. Treize wasnít what she expected; he felt pain; he was gentle; he was giving, not taking; he was so very lonely. How she knew these things was not clear to her, but in the deepest part of her soul, she knew them to be true.

"I never....Iíve never," she haltingly whispered.

"I know," Treize whispered back. "I will be gentle."

Ashiís hesitant nod was all the permission the King needed. His hands slowly pushed her legs apart. The King used great care trying not to jar her injury; this night could have nothing to do with pain. Unsure lavender eyes watched him kiss his way down her chest and stomach. A question lit her eyes as Treize moved lower still. Smiling as if he knew the most wonderful joke in the world, Treize ran his tongue over her crotch and without waiting to see her reaction, pushed it inside her.

Ashiís back arched as she uttered a cry of absolute pleasure. Her head twisted from side to side as intense waves of sensation rocked her body. Eventually, whimpers of longing drifted from clenched lips as the inexperienced woman tired to deal with what her body felt. Treize finally took pity on her and began kissing his way back up her body, removing his clothes as he went. When he reached her mouth, they repeated their first kiss.

The King rolled his hips into hers, letting her feel how much he wanted her. As the kiss deepened, she thrust her hips against him, letting him know she was ready.

"Itís going to hurt at first," Treize warned her.

"I know."

Settling between her hips, the King slowly pushed forward, listening to his lover carefully. He met with some resistance and gave a final thrust, burying himself to the hilt and bringing a strangled cry of joy and pain from Ashi. Holding still, Treize bent and kissed tears from her eyes. Ashi, however, looked at him fiercely.

"Donít you dare stop," she growled, although this time the growl was far more throaty and seductive. "If you leave me like this I will kill you."

"Your wish is my command, my lady," he laughed and kissed her again, beginning slow even thrusts.

They rocked against each other, feeling the pleasure build; not sure where it would end, if it would end. What they were feeling was too good to end. Soon, however, tension began to build in them. Treize knew what it meant and hurried the movement of his hips, pushing deeper into his lover every time. Ashi ground against him, moaning at the sensations his filling her caused. Faster and faster they moved, rushing toward oblivion.

"Treize, by the Goddess," Ashi screamed as she came, wrapping her good leg around her loverís waist.

The King followed her, filling his new lover and falling against her as the strength seemed to flow out of him. Under him, Ashi trembled with the force of her orgasm and reaction to it. Treize took her into his arms and hummed an old lullaby he knew. The first time always brought such emotional and physical confusion.

"Thank you," the tired woman whispered muzzily before falling asleep in his arms.

Treize looked at her, then he laughed softly. How odd this young woman was, but that was part of the attraction. There would be another addition to the Claiming Ceremony in the morning.


	3. Part 1 Interlude: Hitting it Off

Treize couldnít sleep. For most of the night, he had gone over the various   
reports from his spies, armies, and advisors. Someone was forming a rebellion   
and no one seemed to be able to catch the elusive new leader. Finally, around   
midnight, the tired King decided to take a short walk; it would help him   
think and maybe then he could get some sleep. Dressed in a loose robe, long   
pajama bottoms, and nothing else, the great leader headed for the Throne   
Room.

At about the same time the King chose to take a walk, a slender shadow was stalking the halls of his castle. The young woman was called Ashi; she wore simple black clothes and no shoes. Her hair was very short and the pale strands almost glowed in the dark, just like her lavender eyes. At her waist, a small belt held a dagger. Taken in its entirety, the young woman looked very dangerous, right up until she tripped over a bulge in the carpet.

Silently cursing, Ashi picked herself up and once more slipped into the shadows.

ëWhat, by the Goddess, am I doing here?í she asked herself silently. ëThis is a huge castle. How am I supposed to find three people in a place this size?í Yet, she knew there was no way she could just abandon her friends without at least trying.

Four years ago, Ashi had been brought to this city from the conquered country of Stalius. Thrown into an orphanage, the young girl had been lost; she knew nothing of the customs, language, or society. Within the first few weeks, Ashi had been in more than a dozen fights. Then they had cornered her. Quatre, Duo, and Wufei.

Thinking it was another attack, the girl had reacted like a trapped animal. It was only when she saw they were not fighting back that she stopped and gave them a chance to explain. Using mostly hand motions and Duoís very expressive face, she came to understand they meant no harm and even wanted to help. Since that day, the four of them were inseparable. The boys taught her everything about the kingdom and she adopted them as her Brothers.

There was little they couldnít handle together, which was why she was swamped in guilt. She had gone on a personal errand and returned to an orphanage in chaos. Soldiers had come looking for her Brothers, lured by tales of their beauty. When Rashid tried to stop the kidnapping, the soldiers attacked him. The poor man would be in bed for at least a month, leaving his wife, Catherine, to run things and the orphanage without the money he earned at work.

She should have been there; she could have done something; she could have prevented this; it was her duty and honor to protect her Brothers. The constant litany ran through the back of her mind. Even after four years without real combat, Ashi could still hold her own with a normal fighter. Twelve years of training didnít just disappear, after all. So here she was, invading the castle of King Treize, the man who had conquered her country and stolen all she held dear. Walking into a place filled with thousands of enemies on the off chance she could find three young men in the hundreds of rooms to chose from. Ashi came to a conclusion about herself: She was an idiot.

It wasnít just the thought of dying. By the customs of her people, if a man bested a woman in combat, the woman was bound by the law to give herself to him. The same was true for men. The ancient law ensured that strength was added the bloodlines of her people. Intelligence came to them from this law as well because losing through trickery was not considered a reason to invalidate the fight. For years, the young woman had avoided that aspect of her culture by never going beyond street fights, but with trained fighters there was a very real possibility she could lose.

Shaking out of the unsettling thoughts, Ashi paused at a t-section. Left or right? Up until now, the lavender-eyed woman had been depending on her instincts to guide her. In all her life, they had never once led her to a wrong choice. Taking a deep breath, she searched her feelings. Right. Definitely right.

Using the shadows to hid her passage, Ashi moved down the long hall. A sudden piercing pain gripped her entire body as she passed a closed door. With the pain came the knowledge that one of her Brothers was on the other side. Finding the door unlocked, the female fighter slipped inside, letting her eyes adjust to the dark.

Stray beams of moonlight streamed across the bed revealing two figures huddled there. The amount of hair falling off the bed told her at least one of the people was Duo. Slowly approaching the pair, Ashi had to stop a hiss of rage. Duoís face was tear stained, his wrists were tied, and another man had his arms wrapped possessively around his waist. Forcing the anger aside, she carefully placed a hand over Duoís mouth and gently shook him.

Violet eyes flew open, but he made no attempt at speaking; that alone was shocking. Removing her hand, Ashi drew her dagger and tried to cut the ropes imprisoning her Brother. Not a single strand broke; enchanted rope, he was bound with enchanted rope! Could things get any worse?

Shaking her head, Ashi began to back away from the bed. Theyíd have to figure something else out. Just as she started to stand a rough hand grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her onto the bed over Duo. Ashi found herself staring into very angry cobalt blue eyes.

"And where do you think youíre going?" The manís voice growled. Before she could respond, Duo launched himself at the man and broke his grip. Never one to waste an opportunity, Ashi got as far from the bed as possible. Duo was trying to keep the older man on the bed while motioning for her to run. The lack of speech suddenly hit the young woman, as did the fact that both men were naked. What had they done to Duo?

The taller man finally managed to dislodge the longhaired prisoner and he started toward her.

"Put some clothes on," she ordered and slipped out the door. The manís roar of rage must have been heard three countries. Cursing her inability to keep her mouth closed, Ashi ran down the hall.

Sheíd only gotten a short way when a door in front of her opened and she ran into a tall blond, nearly knocking him over. The man calmly grabbed her upper arms.

"What have we here?" the blondís baritone echoed through the hall.

"Onna," an imperious, but very familiar voice came from the now open doorway. "Get the hell out of here!"

Ashi turned from the man holding her to find Wufeiís situation was just like Duoís; he was completely naked and tied to a bed. The suppressed fury from before wrapped its way around her consciousness and without even turning to face her captor, Ashi brought her knee up as hard as possible.

"You donít have anything," she growled to the now kneeling man and continued down the hall. They would all pay for what happened to her Brothers. Worry for Quatre danced at edges of her mind and her instincts screamed for her to stop at the next door and almost against her will she did. It opened to reveal a tall slender man wearing no shirt and a whip at his hip. Behind him, she could see Quatre, looking more afraid than sheíd ever seen him. Not waiting to see more, the young woman continued to run, now chased by three men.

At an intersection, Ashi trusted her instincts and made a quick left. For the first time in her life, that perfect instinct seemed to be wrong. Ashi found the hallway lead straight to the Throne Room and it was occupied. A very large man with split eyebrows looked up from the middle of the room as she burst in.

Trying to stop and turn at the same time, Ashi found to her horror that the floor had been waxed; losing her balance Ashi slid across the floor cursing whoever had done the waxing and promising him or her a slow death. With a solid thud, the young woman collided with the manís legs, but somehow didnít knock him over. She looked up. Startled lavender eyes met warm cornflower blues. The three men chasing her stopped dead at the doorway and viewed the sight before them.

Treize then made three mistakes. First, he saw a young woman and thought: helpless. Second, he began to reach for her, and lastly, the great King made no effort to guard himself. Ashi knew who the half-naked man was and now knew who the three chasing her were. These four men had stolen everything she ever valued. Curling her right hand into a fist, Ashi put all her anger, pain, strength and weight into it and punched King Treize, ruler of most of the known world, feared fighter and strategist, right between the legs. She actually managed to lift him and inch off his feet.

As the older man collapsed, Ashi scrambled around him and ran out the only unguarded door, leaving one groaning victim and three very sympathetic, not to mention shocked, fighters behind. As the three men ran to their King, he ordered them to go after his assailant, but to bring her back alive.

The young woman ran without any set direction in mind. Her instincts completely failed her and she had no idea which way to turn. Eventually, she turned into a dead-end. The only way out was through a door to a Guard Tower. Footsteps from behind warned against choosing to go back. Taking a deep breath, she chose the only option open to her, the Tower.

Quickly locking the door, Ashi hoped it would buy her enough time to find a way out of this mess. Unfortunately, the Tower guard began to come down the steps. She reached for her dagger and found it had been lost somewhere alone the way.

ëYouíre getting soft, idiot,í she silently chided. Luckily, the guard wasnít very well trained and he was unconscious shortly after reaching her. Halfway up the stairs the door behind her shattered. Not bothering to look back, she raced for the top. As she closed and locked the door leading outside, Ashi could swear she felt the hot breath of her pursuers on her neck.

Looking around, the tired woman found no way out. Nothing was close enough to jump onto and no vines grew this high. Jumping off meant certain death.

"I really hate my luck sometimes," she grumbled. The door groaned as something started to hit the wood and it cracked in places.

The sounds of cracking wood were soon replaced by three very angry faces. Swallowing hard, Ashi backed up until she hit the edge of the tower wall. Only a few more inches and she would fall over.

A very refined voice, filled with a good measure of pain, spoke from beyond the men and the King stepped onto the Tower.

"Come my dear. You have no place left to go."

Glaring for all she was worth, Ashi accepted the statement. It was true but also a lie. She had a place to go, if she had the courage for it. Summoning up all the strength she had left, Ashi got ready.

"I am not your dear and I do have a place to go." In one last act of defiance, Ashi turned slightly and slapped her rear saying, "Kiss it, Kingy!" Then she threw herself backwards and off the Tower. A hiss of sound came to her ears just as something encircled her ankle. A harsh jerk wrenched her right leg, tearing muscles and tendons and then she was pulled back from the edge with Trowaís whip firmly gripping her right ankle. Not having anything to break her fall, the young woman hit the hard stone headfirst.

In her fading consciousness, she was aware of the Generals gathering around her and Trowa using the whip to tie her arms. It was over. Then there was nothing but darkness.


	4. Part Two: The Claiming Stones

Treize stared at the still figure on his bed. She seemed very small and he felt a surge of protective instinct. He would not lose this one, he swore silently. Yet, the odds were stacked against the King. Her country was in ruins because of him, his Generals' chosen were somehow related to her and their first meeting left a great deal to be desired in the area of civility. Treize pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, once more marveling at how young and untroubled she looked when asleep. The King's enjoyment was interrupted by a loud pounding on his door.

"Your highness, are you alright?" Lady Une. Of course. Who else could spoil such a tender moment? The pounding continued and grew louder. Treize barely had time to cover Ashi and grab a robe before the door crashed inward. Une charged in, sword drawn, followed by two of his best Captains, Camus and Miklotov. The looks on their faces would keep the King laughing for many years to come.

Ashi, at the sound of the crash, had sat straight up causing the sheet to fall into her lap. All three intruders gaped at the site. Une in horror, Camus and Miklotov in embarrassment. The soldiers then quickly turned their backs sure King Treize was in no danger. Especially since the young woman was tied to the bed. Ashi tried to cover herself, a blush reaching all the way down her neck. There was no way to hide the events of the night.

"What is the meaning of this intrusion, Lady?" The King thundered. Bad enough she'd awoken his young lover, but to embarrass her in this way was unforgivable.

"I heard you shout, My Lord, and thought you might be in trouble." Une tried to bow and shoot daggers at the young woman on the bed.

Ashi found herself shivering under the gaze of the older woman. Not even thinking about it, she ducked behind Treize and gripped his shoulders. She hated doing it; hated the fear the action showed, but she saw her death in that woman's eyes. It would be slow, incredibly painful, and involve men doing things to her that would be very unpleasant.

Sensing the young woman's discomfort, Treize decided to forgo being polite and just send his uninvited guests away.

"I appreciate the concern Lady, but as you can see I am fine. Please return to your chambers." It was a cold dismissal. Une turned on her heal and stormed out. Camus and Miklotov started to join her when Treize stopped them. "You two put my door back as best you can and stand guard the rest of the night. I do not wish to be disturbed again."

The two captains nodded and wrestled the door back into place. No sooner had it been fit back in place than Ashi abandoned her position and fled to the opposite end of the bed from Treize. The King chuckled softly as the young woman glared at him.

"And what do you find so funny?" she almost growled.

"Not you my dear lady," the King assured. "The look on my Captains' faces. It was truly priceless."

A reluctant smile graced Ashi's lips as she remembered. Treize hated to spoil the moment; after all, they were finally agreeing on something, even if it was just two men's humiliation. However, she would need her sleep for tomorrow. Gently pulling on the rope, he forced the young woman back to his side of the bed.

Seeing the glare directed at him, Treize softly whispered a sleep spell and caught her when she collapsed. Yes, tomorrow would be a very busy day, but it would make him very happy. His Generals would also find joy in the day's events. Wrapping his arms around his young love, the King slipped into a peaceful rest.

To Be Continued.....


End file.
